A day in the life of a killjoy

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"Look alive sunshine..."

The radio was blaring out, as usual, the old veteran's smooth voice introduced them to their music for the morning and gave them the zone report and a reminder, 10 years since the Fabulous four died and still not a change.

The boy got off the back seat of the old RV the group had stolen a week ago and threw on his hideously colourful puffer jacket, making sure his ray gun was still in the pocket. The sun blazed in the zones and they would need to find shelter and food, hopefully without another shoot out but in these times it was rare to be so lucky.

"Yo Matt" Icy Venom said stretching out and finally turning the slaughtermatic sounds of The Mad Gear and Missile Kid down.

"It's Plastic Thrill, Icy you need to start remembering" the boy hissed back "Or should I just start calling you Olga again?"

"Alright no need for threats Plastic boy." Icy wasn't a bad person and Plastic really did think she was a good dude but she never seemed to understand the need for their new names.

"Shut up you two," another voice interrupted before he could answer, Atomic killer, looking about ready to knock their heads together at the next utterance, "We need to keep running for a little while before the Drac's actually dust us, Icy I want you to watch the back, Plastic take shotgun and keep your gun ready." Atomic was stern and neither of the other young killjoys dared argue so with that they all put their masks on ready for anything the zones could throw at them.

It was a strange world to grow up in, nothing holding you anywhere, only thing to prove your worth being how many Draculoids you had killed, Plastics kill count now being almost 30 after 20 years in the zones, it was at least more then Icy could hope to manage but no where near enough to impress Atomic. He had been here so long he couldn't even remember the true threat of BL/ind yet he continued to rebel anyway for the memory of the four.

After an hour of driving and listening to Dr Deathdefying rant about the zones with only a little trouble from Dracs they found a smallish building that looks like it could've been a shop before the helium wars. It should at least have something to eat as long as BL/ind hadn't destroyed it; they enter all keeping their guns out just in case and look around, it was a mess with spray paint layered across the walls, only a few stay cans of powder pup left, it was perfect.

The trio settled there for a while, relishing being out of the sun and feeling safe for a bit until they heard the sickening sound of an motor rolling up; their action was immediate scrambling to find their masks and weapons and face whoever it may be.

Five colourfully clad killjoys entered guns at the ready, as soon as they entered Plastic fixed his best glare and stood in their practised formation, behind atomic and next to Icy, and prepared to do whatever is necessary.
"Names, intent and weapons." Icy demanded, her voice being the loudest in the three.

The people said nothing, faces painted with unnatural smiles that don't even nearly reach their eyes, it was clear what happened to them yet Icy still repeated her demands in a voice that seemed calmer then any of them could be. "what do we do now?" she then whispered to the other two shaken individuals only to get no reply as the smiling strangers launched at the young Killjoys practically forcing them to use their colourfully customised ray guns on people who they may have once called brothers, it shouldn't have been as unnerving as it was to shoot one of the groups caught by BL/ind after all they may as well have been Draculoids with all the identity they had left but still later that night, when they'd found a place safe enough to hide for a bit, all three found themselves racked with guilt for what had happened.

The radio was turned on ready for the old vets last report of the day, nine more killjoys converted and eight killed, ten years since the death of the Fabulous Four and not a thing changed. They all were ready to fall asleep as the national anthem played to end the broadcast, masks off, guns down, sick from the day but themselves.

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